


Spite

by 4n0n



Category: Naruto
Genre: If it goes on, M/M, Slow Burn, as in it might take a while, chars and pairings will be updated as story goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-01-16 23:30:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12352773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4n0n/pseuds/4n0n
Summary: Chance it turns out, can give Fate a run for its money.After a drastic change in the power balance of the clans', Madara decides to follow his dreams. The road of life is full of bumps.





	1. Chapter 1

All Madara sees is that his brother stopped moving. His world narrows until only Izuna remains.

 

He gets to him before he can hit the ground. The injury is bad. Suddenly, Hashirama is there, offering a hand, eyes honest as ever. Izuna calls him back to reality. Behind Hashirama, Tobirama is raising his sword, the Senju are closing in.

 

Madara flicks the bombs, tags and everything he has in his bag to make his escape. Holding tightly onto his brother who is no longer capable of speaking or standing, he makes his way back to the Uchiha compound.

 

 

 

The missive comes three days after their frantic retreat and the subsequent failure of their healers to do anything but ease his brother's pain. Izuna had snarled at them to use their talents on those that could still be saved and that had been it. Only Madara had remained.

 

The air in the room has become stale again, filled with the scent of blood and sickness. Like a puppet Madara moves to let fresh air in. At least, it allows him the pretense of doing something, anything, at all to ease his brother's suffering. 

 

Failure. He's an oath-breaking failure. He couldn't protect his little bother, his last brother, he failed him like all his other brothers. Nothing has changed. Noise drifts in from outside.

 

There's a commotion dies out in an instant, then there's a swift knock on the door.

 

"The Senju offer an exchange, a most agreeable exchange." Hikaku says firm and calm but his Sharingan is active, blazing in the dim room. For some reason, the boy though it prudent to confront Madara with this, right now, right here. It gives him pause, puts a leash on the fury that is always boiling beneath the surface.

 

“The Senju offer a truce,” he continues defiant. “An offer of an exchange of skills. Very favorable.” His stance is wide, hands at his side. He won't fight him but he'll stand his ground on this. Madara says nothing.

 

“They offer a contingent of their healers for our wounded.” Just like that the boy is dangling the spider's thread in front of him, a last chance to save Izuna.

 

“Their healers...” escapes him unbidden as he looks back at his brother asleep now still breathing, Fear grips him every time he falls asleep, he spends hours sitting next to him anxiously waiting for the next breath to come. Hikaku nods. The Senju healers are unparalleled, their abilities are one of the clan's biggest advantage over the Uchiha.

 

“What do they want in return?” He can't think of anything. They have nothing that they could afford to offer in exchange. Peace?

 

“Our techniques for healing burns.” Madara scoffs. _Laughable. Ridiculous._

Hikaku shrugs, “He swore on his brother.”

 

 

 

"It's a trap," Comes from the sickbed. Izuna is awake and furious. He tries to push himself up. Madara is at his side in a instant. “It's a trap, you fool.” He glares murder at Hikaku. He's not wrong. He's not wrong but he has to lie down again

 

"Are you asking your brother to watch you die?" Hikaku interjects soft and dangerous. Izuna stops and stares, opens his mouth and closes it again. For a moment, he has to gather himself, focus on his breathing.

 

“The Senju would never--”

 

“He was dressed for a stealth mission,” Hikaku cuts him off. “He may...”

 

“You think you caught Tobirama trying to sneak onto our lands?” Madara asks. Hikaku is skilled but not on Tobirama Senju's level. He presses his lips together, something is going on, something outside that they're not aware of. That offer...

 

“He was exhausted. Really exhausted. Chakra level low. He looked like y...” Hikaku gestures with his hand. “...desperate. He seemed desperate somehow.” Sneaking into another clan's compound is often a suicide mission, a last ditch effort, born of despair, usually used before a clan's wiped out. What could happen that would drive cool-headed, aloof Tobirama to such measures, grasping at straws, considering sending the Senju into the compound, lending an entire contingent of healers for a few basic jutsu.

 

He'd almost taken Hashirama's hand and Tobirama had raised his sword. An ugly, treacherous thought takes root in his head. He'd thrown everything at them. A mere distraction, for his frantic retreat, he wasn't even aiming at anyone.

 

“What if someone got hit?” It's the most unlikeliest outcome but the one that would offer an explanation. Hikaku stares at him clearly confused but unwilling to say he's not making any sense. Izuna has no such qualms.

 

“Who? When? Where? We can't actually hear you think, brother.” Izuna quips, never missing a chance to make fun of him, especially not now.

 

“When we retreated.” He says careful of the wording. “I grabbed everything in my pouch and threw it at the Senju.” He panicked, composure broken by the threat to his brother's life.

 

Izuna slowly lies back down. “He'd do it for his brother,” he says finally. “That cold bastard.”

 

Out of all of them he knows Tobirama best, has fought him more often than anyone else. The unreal has crept upon them. Strong Hashirama hurt, seriously enough, at tha,t to have the Senju come begging to their door for aid. It's an impossibility. It changes everything, Izuna laughs quietly, body wracked with pain.

 

"One condition,” he pauses, “I agree to this lunacy under one condition." He looks at Madara and there is steel in his eyes and the furrow of his brow is Tajima's. Madara's insides turn to ice.

 

“You take my eyes.”

 

Hikaku argues and argues until he is openly yelling, yet his brother remains firm.

 

“I can't trust them, I can't,” he tells Madara after Hikaku left to give the Senju their answer, he almost sounds apologetic. “I need to know that I've done everything I can.” _In case he dies, in case it's a trap.  
_

 

“I know,” Madara says, thumb running circles over his brother's cold wrist. “I know, little brother.”

 

 

 

 

When Madara walks into the the clan's council house with his brother's eyes in his head, there are no objections from the Elders to his decision.

 

 

 

For the first time in years, he can see without pain. His new magnificent eyes show him his brother's dying body in acutely prominent detail, breath growing ever weaker, sickly palor - _Focus._

 

The healers arrive soon after. They are old, unarmed and deprived of their senses, eyes bound by thick woolen cloth, noses confused with strong scents rubbed above their lips, ears sealed with wax. Hikaku's handpicked guard platoon leads them in. Despite the anxious knot in his throat, he has to suppress a proud smile. Every single guard has someone in the sick house fighting for their lives, Hikaku's become a magnificent shinobi.

 

The healers's leader is an ancient, grim-faced kunoichi. She surveys the dying Uchiha's and nods apparently satisfied. _Admiring her clan's work?_ As she assigns tasks to the group, orders specific healers to specific patients, her eyes dart around to observe possible exits. Her subordinates, however, immediately get to work under the supervision of the Uchiha healers. Madara himself is at his brother's side, the Eternal Mangekyo hidden beneath a genjutsu showing him the extent of their skills. The old woman shuffles over to Izuna, getting to work.

 

“He's going to live,” the old woman grunts when she is finished with Izuna. She wipes her bloody hands off on her apron. “Can't do much about his eyes, though.” As one the Uchiha hide a flinch,

Madara grits his teeth, it's going to be the counter-Senju campaign with the highest survival rate in known memory. If the peace treaty were to include the sharing of techniques such as these... _Focus._

 

“What about your other healers?” He tests her.

 

“Our deal only encompasses my unit, further exchanges will have to be discussed with the clan head,” She says tensely. Madara tilts his head.

 

 

 

 

“I believe that is your turn to honor our deal,”the crone approaches him with brittle steps that belie her power. Behind her the other healers, their eyes on Madara, casually pack up their things. Beside him his own healers tense, it seems the Uchihas are not the only ones expecting betrayal. They chose well to demand the scroll here among their patients. Their skills as healers make them exceptional killers. Madara produces the scroll.

 

“Here,” he tosses the scroll at her. She opens it and quickly reads it over. Her mouth twitches ever so slightly, belying her surprise.

 

“What?” Madara drawls. “Excepted us to not honor an agreement?” He asks as he steps aside to let them go. They look rattled, wrong-footed, throwing him suspicious glances without looking at him directly.

 

_They didn't think I'd keep my word,_ he suddenly realizes. _They expected me to kill them, here._ By the expression his own healers are failing to hide, they were not the only ones. Izuna is asleep, already breathing easier. 

 

“Hikaku-san. Please watch over my brother, while I escort our guests home.” He ignores the look of shock on their faces as he walks out after the Senju. No matter, what they think his intentions are, he will ensure that they reach the border safely. If one of them gets hurt or killed, making their way back... So many alive who were thought lost. The healers will return safely. He shakes his head at the implied question in Hikaku's eyes as they pass him. The relief is not evident but Madara can see it in the way he straightens his shoulders, determination and confidence in his eyes, most likely readying himself for the questions of the elders and the more war-mongering clan members. 

 

 

 

The lone figure awaiting the slow procession on the border makes Madara's proverbial hackles rise. In the evening light, he looks wraith-like, something not of this world. Tobirama has always been an a harbinger of ill tidings, ever since they first met on that riverbank.

 

If he is surprised by the safe return of his people, his face doesn't show it. Expression ever unmoving, one might mistake him for a statue. But he's not, underneath all that he is a brother like Madara. The healers shuffle over to their leader who frees them f, the old woman hands Tobirama the scroll and nods at his silent inquiry.

 

Up close, the exhaustion on his face becomes more obvious, his eyes are red-rimmed. The thought of him crying, the evidence of Tobirama being a person with feelings and what could possibly drive him to lose his iron-clad composure that way catches him off guard. He opens his mouth to ask after Hashirama before he realizes what an infinitely bad idea that is. That's the moment, Tobirama choses to look at his face, so he finds himself staring at him with his mouth open like a fool.

 

“We should talk,” He says before he really thinks about it.

 

“Why?” Tobirama asks, the healers share puzzled glances before slowly inching into a defensive formation around Tobirama. _To negotiate peace._ He still wants that, he finds, surprised by the intensity of longing for that dream. Tobirama is waiting for him to answer.

 

It sounds stupid, when he says it, hell he feels ridiculous even before the words leave his mouth.

 

“I shared your brother's dream. I think we should talk about that.” There that's vague enough. “I'll meet you at the place where it died.” He turns around without further ado and gets ten steps before Tobirama calls out.

"When?" Madara stops. Fuck his life. The moon is full.

 

"On the night of the new moon." He calls out as he shushins away.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara tells his brother, it doesn't quite go like the thought it would.

Madara doesn't waste time contemplating his revived dream of peace, instead he hurries back to the compound, Izuna may have awoken by now. 

In the compound, no one approaches him, no one so much as looks at him. Everything is eerily silent. They are watching, though, carefully hidden, not good enough though. He can see them out of the corner of his eyes.

Not Izuna though, he must have sensed him because he hears him before he has entered the room. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” 

“Izuna-sama, please, you must rest,” someone pleads. Madara barely registers it, he's well enough to be angry. There's a never-ending litany of 'he's alive' running through his head that drowns out everything else. It doesn't lessen the ridiculousness of the scene he comes upon in the room. 

Izuna is standing on his futon, his hands on planted on his hips. He raises his eyebrow in a very deliberate move that their mother used when they'd done something particularly stupid. He is even tapping his foot. The effect is not diminished in the slightest by the fact that he apparently can't make out Madara's face well enough to meet his eyes. 

“I'm waiting.” Even his tone bears a striking resemblance to their mother's. Madara gapes at him, as does Akane, their healer. The last time Izuna talked to him like this he had just figured out that Madara had been off cavorting with a Yamanaka. It's a nice show he's putting on, not for him though, Madara knows him too well. Izuna‘s ire is a cold, quiet thing and people only ever learn that when it‘s far too late. 

Izuna tilts his eyebrow higher. It‘s Madara‘s cue. He ducks his head.

“Well?” Izuna demands, then seemingly takes notice of Akane who is staring at him like she's never seen him before. 

“Akane-san, would you mind giving me and my brother some privacy?” He graces her with a dazzling smile. She nods still in shock

She even spares a pitying glance for Madara. Izuna 'watches' her go, making up with chakra where his eyes fail him. 

“They think you took my eyes.” Izuna says by way of explanation, his voice derisive. “Baro‘s lot.” It was Tajima and their cunning mother who seized leadership of the clan after Baro's demise. And Baro's children have never quite forgotten nor forgiven. And now Akane will spread the news that Izuna still nags him like the nagging champion he is. That should put a swift stop to that particular mine. Good, proposing peace talks will be enough of a minefield as is. 

 

Izuna pats him down for injuries before they sit down at the table where freshly brewed tea is already waiting.

“I woke up and they were here, asking Akane all kinds of questions,” His fingers tremble with barely contained fury. Madara couldn't care less about their useless yapping, the weak will talk, the strong will do. 

“They are probably tattling where Hikaku can‘t hear. He‘d curb-stomp them before they finished talking,” Izuna says and laughs as he imagines the other‘s reaction. Madara doubts that Hikaku would react that forcibly in defense of his honor but lets Izuna indulge in his fantasies. He has more pressing concerns.

“How much can you actually see?” 

“How much could you see?” When Madara doesn‘t answer, Izuna scoffs and says “Yeah that's what I thought.”

Madra bites his lips until he can taste blood. Useless fool. He crippled his brother. “I'm--”

“Stop that thought right there,” Izuna orders. “I can almost see you self-flagellating and I won't have it.” He shakes his head and gives him a look that says 'are you sure you weren't dropped on your head as a kid?'. 

 

“How could you be so reckless? I can barely make out the difference between your face and the back of your head.” Izuna looks more horrified than angry. 

“Was your eyesight that bad?” He demands. 

“N--.” Izuna talks over him.“Did you fight Hashirama Senju while half-blind?” 

It occurs to Madara that Izuna is far more upset about him getting killed by Hashirama than his impaired sight. 

“Hashirama wouldn-...” It‘s a mistake to word it like that. Izuna‘s eyes widen, his nostrils flare and he sucks in his breath like wounded beast.

Then he blows up at. “Have you lost your mind? He‘s a Senju!“ He shouts like it says everything and it should. But he will also always be the boy Madara met at the river. 

“You don‘t know him.” Madra says injecting finality in his voice, he doesn‘t want to discuss Hashirama. It‘s an off-limit topic. One of the few points that they truly clash on. Izuna is not having any of it. He scoffs and raises his eyebrow. 

“And you do?” He laughs derisively. “Why? Because you fooled around when you were boys?” The double meaning is a low dig. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that he could have killed you back then if Tajima and I hadn't shown up?” He shouts. “Because I have!” There's a shake in his voice he can't hide. It douses the kindling flames of Madara's anger, he's just scared to lose him. Madara reigns in his pride. 

“It wasn't that bad and if he noticed he never took advantage.” He grits out. Izuna rolls his eyes and sighs deeply, he doesn't want to fight him either. 

“At least that is over now. The Sage was smiling on us when you threw some of my special tags.” Izuna grins at him viciously victorious. Izuna‘s nasties. He calls them. Wicked things. He takes a sip of his tea. “No more fake pleas for false peace.” 

Madara hides a shudder and steels himself. He waits until Izuna has put the cup down before he tells him.

“I proposed a meeting with Tobirama to talk about the possibility of peace negotiations,”

Izuna blinks a couple of times and goes deadly still, a viper's stillness before it strikes. Steam rises from the cup and Madara prepares to dodge. He won't have Izuna's support in this, maybe in front of the elders and the clan but never here where they are just a family. Izuna makes no move for the cup, instead his face twitches and he presses his lips together firmly. 

“Okay,” he says after a few moments. Madara does a double-take because surely he must have misheard. Izuna daintily sips his tea.

“Okay?” He asks because this is Izuna - I‘ll use my dying breath to tell you not to trust the Senju- talking and none of the ways he imagined this conversation to go looked anything like acceptance.

“Sure,” Izuna says shrugging nonchalantly. „Tobirama won't come anyway.“ He tilts his head looking up in pretense of thinking very hard. “And even if he did, he'd only try to kill you.”

It‘s a clear dismissal, the idea so ridiculous to him it's not even worth anger. 

“He could come to listen to my proposal,” Madara says. Izuna snorts, tries to control his expression while his shoulders shake. He gives up after a couple of seconds and starts laughing at Madara.

“And you would convince him of your honest intentions?” He shrieks, any minute now he‘ll pound the table.

“You think me incapable.”

Izuna looks up at him. “Well not... I wouldn't call it that, you're just strongly diplomatically disinclined.”

Madara gets up. He won't listen to this. 

“Sit your fool ass down. I need to brief you on Tobirama's techniques. Who knows what the freak will come up with after you maimed his brother.” Izuna commands, deadly serious in the blink of an eye. Madara sits back down. “And when you come back with a bloody nose, I will kindly refrain from saying 'I told you so',” He grins at him nonchalantly. Madara clenches his fists. 

It‘s decided. Madara will have peace even if it kills him. And he will use what Izuna tells him to convince Tobirama and then he‘ll thank him for his invaluable help in front of the entire clan and for the rest of their lives, hell he'll even sing praise of Izuna's critical role in achieving peace in the afterlife in front of all their ancestors. That will teach the little shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Naruto and all its characters belong to Kishimoto


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They only almost die.

Madara has no clue as to how he should convince one Tobirama Senju that he honestly wishes for peace. Hashirama? In a second. His brother, on the other hand, is a wildcard. Izuna's 'Beware of his temper!' and subsequent in depth explanation of Tobirama's skills are not all that helpful. Madara exits the compound still not sure what he will say.

 

Meeting at the Nakano was a mistake, everything here is a reminder of a past he forced himself to forget. A friend lost, an enemy gained, he used to tell himself. But did he lose him? Unbidden the damning thought dredges up, dangerous in its innocence. Hashirama may have been honest in his quest for peace but the murderous Senju behind him - Tobirama's cold eyes flicker through his mind- they have always been a different story. He continues to run scenarios through his head, might-have and could-have-beens become a whirling tornado tangling the what-ifs and what-could-bes into a gordian knot. Hashirama's status remains obscure. Degree or extent of injury are complete unknowns.

 

_What kind of hurt would drive a man like Tobirama to come begging at our doorstep?_

 

 

 

Madara arrives at the Nakano none the wiser, the mumbling river deceptively peaceful in the night, and _he_ is there throwing stones. Pulling back his arm, twisting his wrist just so, past and present overlay. For a moment, a boy stands at the bank. Madara trips.

 

Over a fucking root.

 

At least he catches himself before he can fall face-first on the ground. Tobirama is still throwing stones at the river's edge, his next throw misses though, doesn't even come close to the other side.

 

_Okay, so he definitely saw that._

 

Tobirama carries on his pretense of ignorance, stones skipping over the water and hitting the bank again. As if the greatest sensor in Fire country would ever be caught unaware on the border to an enemy clan's land. Madara rolls his eyes. _Arrogant fucker thinks I'm stupid._

 

He picks up a stone and pelts it across the river, it lends in front of Tobirama's feet. His stone made more jumps than Tobirama's. Alas, he cannot enjoy his victory because Tobirama finally deigns to acknowledge his presence.

 

“You're late,” He states gruffly and crosses his arms. True, the walk through the forest took longer than he planned. He waits if Tobirama wants to nag some more before he starts speaking.

 

“As I said, I wanted to discuss opening peace negotiations with your clan,” he pauses, Tobirama is looking through him, arms crossed, stance rigid, face blank. Madara's eyes narrow. _Not interested in what I have to say? Which begs the question why are you here?_ A glint beneath the water is his only warning, Madara dodges the barrage of kunai. Izuna's cackles echoing obnoxiously through his head, 'I told you, big brother.'. Tobirama wastes no time making use of his geographical advantage and turns the entire river against him. Madara counters with a Katon but the river is a feint, the steam giving Tobirama the opportunity to materialize behind him and drag him into the current. The ominous flare of hundreds of explosion tags lighting up greets him.

 

_Oh...._

 

 

 

Madara staggers to his feet, head ringing.

 

The river is gone. Through the billowing smoke below, he can make out the empty riverbed. Water trickling back slowly. _That crazy fucker._ Susanoo slowly disperses around him. In front of him Tobirama staggers to his feet. Disgusted Madara ensnares him in ninja wire, to think he wasted his time on this fool.

 

 

Tobirama stumbles awkwardly, a bird caught in the net, desperately struggling against the wires. Madara approaches him, a predator's leisurely prowl, sure of his catch. Two feet apart and Tobirama spits senbon at him, lightning fast and striking true. Madara sways back and forth, limbs going numb. Tobirama hops awkwardly trying to stay upright, Madara sways back and forth dangerously.

 

His face collides with Tobirama's armor. _Sage's beard, that better be his chest plate._ In a mess of limbs they tumble to the ground. With a furious noise, Tobirama begins to squirm beneath him but Madara is the heavier of the two of them. Arms and legs numb like lead, he squints up at Tobirama's livid face. it occurs to Madara that he's never getting a better chance than this. Tobirama has to listen to him now.

 

He spits out a strand of hair and blood, there's a fucking senbon stuck in his throat. At least, starting from rock-bottom, he can hardly make things worse.

 

“About peace.”

 

Tobirama's eyes twitch but he only squeezes them shut tighter, every good little Senju knows to close their eyes when faced with the Sharingan and Tobirama has always been their poster boy. The rings beneath his eyes are more prominent, then they were a couple nights before.

 

“I wanted to propose an extension of the truce, so we could negotiate a peace treaty.” Tobirama's eyebrows crease further which should be impossible but he manages just fine.

 

“Peace would...”

 

“Cease your blabbering.” Tobirama growls, struggling anew. “ _I_ won't listen to your lies.” His voice is more forceful on the 'I', a hint of impotent rage that Madara hones in on. Hope sparks in him, a mere ember but all fires start small. _You won't but Hashirama would..._

 

Tobirama presses his lips shut but he has something to say. Madara can see the words burning on his tongue.

 

“You brokered this truce, the first cease-fire in ages,” He throws him a crumb. “You sent those healers. You did what your brother couldn't do.”

 

“Shut up. Hashirama practically...” He cuts himself off, fury lending him new strength. With a desperate wiggle Tobirama rolls out under him. Madara rolls to the side like a sack of potatoes. Cutting into his arms Tobirama brings his hands together and Madara laughs.

 

“Following our clans' tradition to the letter. You always were the favored son,” He coughs up more blood, it sticks in his hair. Killing each other even at the cost of their own lifes has become long since a tradition between Senju and Uchiha. “Poor Hashirama, poor Izuna, two cripples left to fight for the scraps.”

 

Tobirama's fingers twitch and his chakra spikes. Power hungry wannabe usurpers have a habit of popping up like mushrooms after a good rain when a clan leader flounders and changes of leadership are rarely a bloodless affair. _Didn't think that far, did you, little Senju._ He thinks viciously. 

 

“Hashirama will _never_ give up on his dream,” Madara adds, says it  with unfounded confidence, bullshitting should be a shinobi art. He doesn't know Hashirama, the man, not like he knew the boy. Hell, for all he knows Hashirama could be in a coma. Luckily for him, knowledge isn't important here, only the unshakeable belief a little brother has in his older brother.

“You're a drowning rat, grasping every straw.” It's an empty insult, the water isn't rising any faster, not a vote of confidence for Tobirama's murder-suicide effort. And whatever he's preparing will kill them both, he wouldn't be hesitating otherwise.

"You know him better than me. Do you think he'll give up if you die?" Madara taunts. Doubt blooms in every crease on Tobirama's face. Madara has to fight a victorious smile.

“Like it or not, unless someone kills him, Uchiha and Senju will eventually negotiate for peace.”

 _You just won't be there to watch his back,_ remains unsaid. Izuna is his biggest supporter among the Uchiha, it would be far more than a personal tragedy to lose him. Tobirama holds enough sway in his clan to convince them to offer a disadvantageous deal to the Uchiha. He bets the Senju won't be quiet as supportive of Hashirama's dream of peace if smart and cunning Tobirama is killed while meeting the Uchiha leader to talk about that very peace. He bets his life Tobirama knows it too.

 

After what seems like a small eternity during which he waits with baited breath for Tobirama to make his choice. He unclasps his hands and rolls over to him, wiggling upwards and groping for his neck, eyes firmly shut. _Ridiculous._

 

“Open your eyes, fool.” He deactivates the Sharingan. _Your only weapon!_ Tajima snarls in his head, Madara imagines spitting in his face.

“Shut up.” Red eyes open and bloody hands pull out the needles, inch by inch.

 

Pins and needles in his limbs, he grabs Tobirama and drags him to the bank. Breathing like he's run from one end of Fire country to the other and back, he sits down heavily and looks for his kunai a bit longer than strictly necessary. Not his most convincing act if the furious look Tobirama gives him is anything to go by. Still scowling he brings his palms together.

 

A massive wave of torrent of water rushes past them. Madara turns to Tobirama. The crazy bastard was retaining the river's water not even Susan'oo could have protected him from that. He doesn't need the Sharingan to spot the smug grin threatening to break Tobirama's composure. It's Madara's turn to scowl.

 

“We will need a member of your clan as insurance,” Tobirama says suddenly apparently already considering the practical side of things.

 

Madara nods slowly, noting that Tobirama is fast to change gears, a useful tidbit of intel that. ~~~~Negotiations between Shinobi clans are a fickle thing. Traditionally, two high-ranking members are sealed together and only both negotiating parties can unseal them. It's not fool-proof but a symbolic show of sincerity is better than none.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to it author  
>  
> 
> ~~I'm not sure this one makes any sense.~~
> 
> Thanks to the two commenters who pointed out some flaws in this, I'm still new to this whole writing thing so the two of you were great help.

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot make up titles. I have no idea where this is going. Neither do the characters. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to its author.


End file.
